Chasing Crazy - Kelly Siskind Page 0,73

I thought it was an important one to conquer.”

I feel the blush creeping up my neck, splotches no doubt forming. Did the sun get hotter? “What if people show up?”

“That’s kind of the point. But you’re with me. I’ve got you. And it’s not abnormal to go naked into a hot spring. It’s an actual thing people do. So as I said, keep your eyes on mine.”

A few minutes later, he’s buck naked in front of me, his priapism at attention in broad daylight while I try to remember why I lied about my period and haven’t allowed all that manly perfection to fill me up.

“Nina. Eyes.”

Where am I supposed to look? Is he frickin’ serious?

“Nina,” he says again.

I peel my gaze away from his thick flesh, sure I’ve burned a hole through my underwear. “Okay, what now?”

“Now it’s your turn.”

I’ve fallen for the one guy on the planet hell-bent on throwing me smack-dab in the middle of the most embarrassing situations. I am head over heels for his mayhem-inducing self. No matter how I feel about him, it doesn’t make the idea of stripping in the open any less mortifying. Sweat gathers under my arms. My heart palpitates. While I play the Statue Game, Sam closes the distance between us and makes the decision for me. He goes to lift my top, and that erection of his helps his cause. It’s like a solar eclipse—I know I shouldn’t look, but I can’t stop myself. The second I do, I’m pliable enough for him to undress me while I gawk helplessly at his manhood. It’s that distracting.

I reach to touch his rigid flesh, but he grabs my hand. “Save that for later. We’re on a mission.” He winks, grips my hand tighter, and the two of us run, naked, to the hot springs. Warm mountain water splashes around us as we sink into the steaming pond.

“You’re crazy,” I cry.

“I know,” he says. “That’s why you like me.”

I sit facing him with my knees to my chest, our feet touching. The water barely covers my breasts. I place my toes over his. “No. I have a thing for guys with weird tics. That’s why the scar-rubbing thing drives me mad.”

He moves his legs outside mine, and his feet come to rest beside my backside. He massages my calves in the water. “I’ll be sure to develop a few more eccentricities when I get home.” His face falls then, just for a second. But I catch it.

We’ve talked about everything under the sun, everything but home and what happens when this trip is over. I refuse to think about us ending. I won’t. I can’t. The thought alone is suffocating. Since things are up and down with his dad, and he wants to be there for him, the only way for us to stay together would be for me to go to Florida. But does he want that? I’d be depending on him, leaving my family in a more permanent way. I don’t even know what I’d do there. Study? Work? It’s like I have to make every monumental life decision at once or I lose him.

Sensing my turmoil, he scoots forward and tries to pull me onto his very naked lap. Rings of water circle us, but I dig my hands into the mucky earth. God, do I want him over me, on me, in me. Everywhere. But fear has me clenching and pushing away.

He locks his feet against my hips, pinning me in place, dipping his head down until we’re eye to eye. “How is it that the girl who fucks me with her eyes and has endless dirty fantasies freezes up when I get too close?” Birds whistle. A fly buzzes. A breeze ripples along the spring. But I don’t speak. “Come on, Nina. What’s up?”

I run my hands up the flayed skin of his legs. He lets me touch him, lets me explore. I’m fascinated by the way it pulls taut in some areas and puckers in others, the marvel of modern medicine that could transplant skin from his thighs to his calves. It never grosses me out. Doesn’t make me want him less. It’s simply who he is—One-syllable Sam, the guy I’m in love with. I’m not sure precisely when this happened. Maybe the first night we met, or when he chased me from Pahia, or when he showed me his legs. Whatever the moment, it’s been building for a while, and it’s the truest emotion I’ve

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